Book 3: Chapter 92 (1/2)
Sheryl sighed and picked a piece of herself up off the ground. She placed the chunk against her torso and waited. A few seconds later, the pebble merged with her body as if it were glued on. She sighed again and picked up another piece of herself. “How is it, Vur? Can you move yet?”
“Nope.” Vur was still on the table in Stella’s dungeon, red chains sticking out of his body. “Nothing’s changed.”
“That’s odd,” Sheryl said. “Chompy already ate the chimera queen. If this is a part of it, how come it’s still sticking around?”
Vur clicked his tongue. “Why would I know?”
“Right.” Sheryl bit her lower lip. “You’re probably the one who’s most annoyed at that. Sorry.”
Zilphy sighed from beside Vur. “I hope Deedee’s alright.”
***
Ralph stared at the dragon that wasn’t quite a dragon. It was in the center of the army, separated from him by over a million men, but there was no doubt that it’d be his turn soon enough. Maybe. The creature was weakening. At first, it was slaughtering hundreds of men a second, but now, it took a minute to do the same. Its claws, ankles, and shins were filled with red spears, and its wings were peppered with arrows. It seemed like a few hours had passed since it killed Lord Briffault, but Ralph wasn’t too sure. He wasn’t revived with his watch after all.
“What are you doing, men!?” a voice shouted above the din. “It’s clearly weakening! Instead of dying after stabbing it once, try to stab it twice! No, try to stab it three times! If each of us can take one scale off of this creature with our deaths, then we’ll have stripped it before even half of us are dead. What are you scared of? A little bit of pain? It doesn’t matter if we die since we’re already dead!”
Ralph nodded. The commander had a good point. They were already dead, so it didn’t matter if they died again. And there wasn’t any food left, so there wasn’t a point in sticking around any longer. Not like there would’ve been a point if there were, but still. No wonder why Zyocuh sent so many of them to subdue a single soul. This soul housed a dragon, and it didn’t help that they lost a quarter of their men before the fight even started. But it seemed like this fight was in the bag. No matter how many soldiers were eaten or died to claws or dragon breaths, there was always more of them. Ralph almost felt bad for the dragon. A mighty titan, taken down by ants. What a sad end to a majestic creature’s life.
Someone nudged Ralph from behind. The soldiers in front of him had moved up again, and he forgot to fill in the empty space while lost in thought. He shuffled forward, closing the gap, and waited some more. Would the fight be over before it was even his turn? That wouldn’t be a bad thing, but it’d be pretty boring, having waited for so long to do nothing.
A blood-curdling scream came from behind, and Ralph flinched at the sound. What was that? There was a ton of shouting up ahead, but that scream pierced through all of it. Another scream filled the air, and Ralph turned around. The soldiers behind him had their heads facing the back as well. His brow furrowed, and he tapped the shoulder of the soldier next to him. “Any idea what that was?”
“No idea.”